


untitled hs au

by pageleaf, plalligator



Series: hs/college au [1]
Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 08:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6232207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pageleaf/pseuds/pageleaf, https://archiveofourown.org/users/plalligator/pseuds/plalligator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scenes from a Queen's Thief high school AU. Originally posted on tumblr <a href="http://pageleaf.tumblr.com/tagged/hs-au/chrono">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	untitled hs au

**PROLOGUE**

Costis is seven and still in the habit of falling off his bike. One of those times, he falls down right in front of the driveway next door, scraping both his knees and elbows. He’s crouched on the ground, trying not to cry, when he sees Irene, the girl who lives there, come up. He doesn’t talk to her often, but they’ve lived next to each other pretty much always. She’s older than him by a year, and now he’s _even more embarrassed_ because she _saw_.

But then she just quietly lifts the bike up enough for him to scramble out from underneath it, before grabbing his arm and pulling him back to her house. He waits in the entryway, shuffling his feet and still blinking back tears, until Irene comes back, a box of band-aids in each hand.

“I have Mulan and Spiderman,” she says, “you pick.”

Costis looks at her, wide-eyed, and tries to remember how to speak.

“I like the Mulan ones,” Irene says matter-of-factly. Then, as an afterthought: “But Spiderman is cool, too, I guess.”

Costis likes Spiderman, and has never even seen _Mulan_.

“Can I have the Mulan ones?” he asks anyway, and once they’re pressed over his scrapes, it’s a lot easier not to cry.

*

Gen lives in a different town, but his and Irene’s families are friends, so sometimes, when one family is in the other’s neighborhood, they have dinner together.

This is the first time they’ve gotten together in a few years, so there’s a lot of catching up to do, and Irene is just so bored. So. Bored. There’s at least another half an hour to go until they actually eat, and the adults are just sitting there chatting about politics and whatever, and Irene, at ten years old, sits sullenly in the corner because she forgot to bring a book. And she’s _bored_.

“Dad,” she whispers, and Relius looks over. “I’m bored.”

Relius looks at her for a moment, silently, before he says, “It’s too bad you didn’t bring something to read.” And then he glances at his coat, hung up by the door, and winks.

Irene jumps up and runs to the door, rooting around in Relius’s pockets until she finds one of her Harry Potter books shoved deep into the bottom.

When she gets back, Teleus is shoving Relius in the arm good-naturedly, and Relius is grinning.

“—should see her on rainy days,” Teleus is saying. “Sitting in the living room surrounded by books.”

“Gen is the same.”

“Where is he, anyway? I haven’t seen that boy in years.” Irene hears one of her dads ask distantly, as she settles down by the fireplace with her book. “I remember when he was so small...”

When she resurfaces a while later, there’s a small, dark-haired boy staring at her with wide brown eyes. “Hi,” he says, lying down on the floor and looking up at her. “I'm Gen. what are you reading?”

Irene turns the book so he can see the cover of _The Prisoner of Azkaban_.

“Oh,” Gen says. “Is it good?”

“You haven’t read Harry Potter?” Irene asks, surprised.

“No,” Gen says, but something in his tone and the way he glances at the floor lets Irene know that he’s lying. It’s almost convincing. “Tell me about it?”

For some reason, Irene doesn’t call him on the lie. Instead, she launches into an explanation of the wizarding world, while Gen listens, rapt.

She’s still talking, twenty minutes later, when their parents call them for dinner.

(Later, when they leave, Irene hears Gen’s dad say, “This was good. We should do this again, soon.”

“Yes,” Relius says. “I think this is the most Irene has said at once in years.”)

*

**HIGH SCHOOL**

Okay, so Costis punches Gen. Partly because of something Gen said, but mostly out of his own simmering resentment that _Gen_ gets to date Irene. So he’s angry about that, and then he’s angry at himself for being angry, because _dammit_ Irene is her own person she can make her own choices. But he’s so jealous that it _hurts_ and it’s turning him into a hot mess.

So he punches Gen. 

Costis is junior quarterback, and he’s six feet tall and made of muscle. Gen is almost half a foot shorter than him, and scrawny. He’s a drama kid, and as far as Costis knows, he isn’t very athletic. And even though popular consensus is that Gen had it coming, it looks bad. If Gen wanted, he could get Costis suspended. He could get Costis _expelled_ , for that matter. His season could be done, his college scholarships—oh gods, his scholarships—could be gone. In an instant.

Costis hates himself. 

But—nothing happens. There are some whispers around school, and Gen swans about sporting an impressive black eye, but apparently he stayed quiet on the source of his injury. Costis makes the mistake of being relieved. _‘Good, it’s over,’_ he thinks.

It’s not over. 

Because, apparently, Gen has decided that Costis is his new best friend. Because he literally will not leave Costis alone. He’s waiting in the hallway outside of Costis’s classes when they finish, he’s hanging around the field before practice, and he evens find time to harass Costis during lunch. 

Right now he’s hovering over Costis’s shoulders in the library while Costis finishes his Mede homework before practice. Or rather, tries to finish. Everyone has to take two years of a foreign language to graduate, but Mede is Costis’s worst subject. In his defense, the Mede teacher, Nahuseresh, is kind of sleazy and seems more interested in his own appearance than teaching. Costis kind of hates him and gets the feeling he’s not alone.

Anyway, even if he were the best in the world at Mede, he would still have trouble concentrating with Gen draped over his back, making snide comments. 

“Costis, your grammar is terrible,” he observes conversationally, as Costis erases and rewrites another sentence. “I know Nahuseresh is a self-centered idiot who can’t teach, but you should be able to do better than this.”

Costis grits his teeth and scrubs the page with his eraser a little harder than necessary. It was _wrong_ to punch Gen, he reminds himself, no matter how annoying he may be. And if this is Gen’s weird way of getting even, fine. Costis is going to be the _better person_ here, because it’s the _right thing to do_ , dammit.

“You’ve got the wrong conjugation there,” says Gen helpfully, and Costis snaps. Gently. 

“I don’t know why Irene dates you,” he says, careful to keep his voice calm and his eyes on his homework. There’s a moment of silence, then Gen’s laugh rings out.

“Poor, jealous Costis,” says Gen. “Maybe it’s because I have a sense of humor, unlike you.”

“Why don’t you just leave me _alone_?” Costis says.

“Oh, Costis,” says Gen, “how could I ever abandon someone who so badly needs my help on their Mede homework?”

*

Later that year, Irene starts tutoring Costis on math. The second time they meet up, they decide to walk home together. Their houses are literally right next to each other, and so close to the school, it just makes the most sense.

This is what Costis reminds himself of, the tenth time they lapse into an awkward silence.

“So,” he says, a last-ditch attempt at real conversation. “Gen decided to go home on his own, today?” Gen usually hangs around the school until Irene is ready to go home, then follows her to her house, where he loiters for a couple hours, before finally leaving. Sometimes he stays for dinner. Costis just knows this from normal observation—it’s not like he’s _spying_ or anything.

Irene is staring at him.

“What,” Costis says, uncomfortable.

“He wasn’t going to hang around while I was tutoring you,” Irene says slowly, as if talking to an idiot, which maybe she is. Costis flushes.

“Oh.” He rubs the back of his neck. “He could, you know. I mean, I wouldn’t mind.”

Irene raises an eyebrow. “Really,” she says, like she doesn’t believe him. Costis doesn’t blame her. He’s pretty surprised at himself, too.

“Yeah,” he says. “As long as he doesn’t make fun of me.”

“He wouldn’t,” Irene says immediately.

“Yeah,” Costis mumbles.

“No,” Irene says, laying a hand on his arm, and Costis freezes. “He wouldn’t.”

Costis looks at her, then smiles. “Yeah,” he says, her hand still warm on his skin. “I know.”

*

**ONE YEAR LATER**

It’s a week before winter break, and everyone in the school is itching for the holiday. Gen has barely been texting Irene at all, which is a little concerning, by now.

When Costis asks him about it, Gen just shrugs, and says, “Her classes are finishing up, but she’s got finals. She’s busy, I don’t want to be bothering her.”

But he says it with a little bitter twist to his mouth, and Costis can tell he’s not as okay with it as he seems. Irene’s going to university in the same state, sure, but the city is almost three hours away, so she’s not home often. Costis misses her face, her voice, the surprisingly patient way she explains things—misses her so much it hurts, sometimes. And if he misses her that much, then how terrible must Gen be feeling?

So no, Costis doesn’t accept Gen’s nonchalant answer at face value.

“When was the last time you called her?” he asks. “She probably wants to hear from you.”

Gen looks at him, puzzled, and Costis knows it’s because they don’t usually talk about Gen and Irene’s relationship (probably more for Costis’s benefit than anyone else’s). “I'll just be distracting her,” Gen says, but Costis is already shaking his head.

“No,” he says. “I don’t think so. I mean, I know when I'm stressed about something, sometimes I just need a—friend, or someone, to talk to me. Help me get my mind off it, you know? A distraction.” He looks down at his shoes, uncomfortable.

When the silence gets to be too much, Costis looks up. Gen is staring at him, face unreadable.

“What?” Costis asks, looking away.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Gen shift, and then he feels him get closer.

“ _What_?” Costis asks again, as Gen’s hand Gently turns his head to face him. He’s still staring at Costis, eyes searching his face intently.

Briefly, Gen’s tongue comes out to wet his lips, and Costis freezes. He realizes suddenly that he doesn’t think they’ve ever been this close. Gen’s hand is still on his face.

“Gen?” Costis asks hesitantly.

Gen draws in a sharp breath, leans up, and—

He kisses Costis.

*

It’s winter break, and Costis hasn’t spoken to Gen in a week. Not since Gen kissed him.

Gen called him three times later that day, and Costis ignored all of them. He ignored the calls the next day, and the day after that, until finally Gen seemed to take the hint and stop trying. Costis is trying to feel satisfied by that, but instead he just feels more miserable.

Gods, he doesn’t know whether to be guilty or angry or both. On the one hand, he completely freaked out and ran away after Gen kissed him, so maybe Gen thinks he’s a homophobe? Which is so, so completely incorrect. On the other hand, _Gen kissed him_ , while he’s dating someone else. While he’s dating Irene! How could he do that? How could he do something so selfish, so—

So. Definitely angry, then.

But guilty, too, because...because Costis kissed back. Before he pulled away, he kissed back, and for a moment, everything was amazing. That’s the real problem: Costis _liked_ it.

*

Irene’s home for break, now, and Costis is still hiding in his house. Gen hasn’t tried calling him again, but Irene called this morning. Costis let it go to voicemail, staring at Irene’s name on the screen with his heart beating too fast.

Thalia is over at a friend’s, so Costis can’t talk to her. Aris tried to get him to come outside and hang out, but Costis was too terrified that he might accidentally run into Gen or Irene (it’s not irrational! Irene lives _literally right next to him_. He can see her bedroom from his, not that that’s relevant. At all), so instead he’s just been watching TV on his couch miserably, reading books in bed miserably, and baking cookies in his kitchen. Miserably.

The cookies have cinnamon in them, and his first thought when he saw the recipe was “Gen would love these.” Gods, this is the worst.

The doorbell rings.

“Costis,” his dad calls from the den, “can you get that?”

“Uh,” Costis says, because he _knows_. “I'm all the way upstairs!”

“You’re in the kitchen,” his dad says, coming into the room. He looks unimpressed. “Why are you hiding from your friends on vacation?”

The doorbell rings again, and Costis winces. His dad gives him a look, but goes to get the door.

“Irene! Hello,” Costis hears him say, and covers his face with his hands.

There’s the muffled sound of voices, and then, “No, I don’t know why he’s not answering his phone.”

Costis bites his lip.

“—where he is?” Irene says, audible now. Costis freezes.

“He’s in the shower,” his dad says, and Costis exhales. “I'll tell him you were here?” A pause, then, “All right, you have a good night. Say hi to your parents for me.”

A few moments later, his dad pokes his head in the kitchen. “You want to tell me what’s going on, kiddo?”

Costis fidgets, opening the oven to check the cookies even though there’s no way they’re done. “Not right now,” he says, not looking at his dad. “Maybe in a few days?”

He hears his dad sigh, and then say, “All right. But if this is messing you up that badly, I don’t think ignoring it is the best bet.”

Costis frowns. “Yeah,” he says.

Later, when he’s pulling the cookies out of the oven, he gets a text.

_please call me_

It’s from Irene, and his heart stops. Does she know? Did Gen tell her? Is she mad? His phone dings again.

_it’s not what you think, i promise_

Costis pulls a face. What he thinks is that Gen was lonely, or bored, or sad, or whatever, and he needed a distraction. That Irene wasn’t there to give it, and Costis was. What else could it be?

He blows on one of the cookies to cool it, and takes a bite.

Gen really would love them.

*

“Teleus and Relius want to have us over for dinner,” Costis’s dad says on Christmas Eve.

Costis’s eyes widen. “No,” he says, panicked. Thalia shoots him a sympathetic look, but she’s already putting her coat on.

“Yes.” His dad’s voice is firm. “Irene won’t even be there, don’t worry.”

He’s wrong.

Irene isn’t there for dinner, but halfway through dessert, the door opens, and they hear boots in the hallway. “We’re home,” Irene calls, and Costis closes his eyes. _We_.

“It started to storm pretty badly, and we figured we’d be better off—” Her voice cuts off when she enters the dining room. “Oh,” she says. “You didn’t tell me...” Gen follows behind her, melted snow wetting both of their clothes. Their faces are unreadable, and Costis feels the tension choking him. He keeps glancing at them, then looking away. He can’t help himself.

“Sorry,” Teleus says, not sounding sorry at all. “It was a last minute decision. We thought you wouldn’t be home until late.”

“Yeah,” Irene says, clearly distracted. When Costis looks at her, she’s staring right back at him.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Gen says, quickly, and Costis stiffens. It’s the first time he’s heard his voice in over a week. “We’ll just go upstairs and get out of your hair.” He starts to leave, but Irene grabs his wrist.

“We didn’t have a chance to get dessert,” she says quietly, still looking at Costis.

“Irene,” Gen says.

“No, stay,” Costis’s dad says. “There’s too much pie for just us.”

They eat dessert in tense silence, cut only by the clanking of forks and the occasional bit of small talk from the adults. Finally, Costis can’t take it anymore.

“Irene, can I talk to you?” He says, standing up and walking into the kitchen. Irene follows, keeping Gen in his chair with a hand to his shoulder.

“Look,” Costis says, when the door closes behind them. “This is a really awkward situation, and I just want you to know that I feel awful about...what happened.” He can’t bring himself to say it.

“Why?” Irene asks. “It’s not like _you_ kissed _him_.”

Costis blushes and looks down. So they’re not going to dance around it, then. “No,” he says. “But, well. I didn’t mind.”

Irene goes still. “Oh?” she says.

“Yeah,” Costis says. “But I know it probably didn’t mean anything, so. Let’s just forget about it and move on?”

“No,” Irene says, and Costis finally looks at her. “Let’s not. Do you really think Gen would kiss you if it didn’t mean anything?”

Costis bites his lip. “I don’t know,” he says. “He loves you so much, I couldn’t understand why he’d—but I assumed it was just because he missed you.”

“I was coming home in less than two weeks,” Irene says, her voice tight. “Do you really think that’s why?”

“I don’t _know_ ,” Costis snaps. “I don’t know why he kissed me.”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Gen says, from the doorway.

“Fine. Why did you?”

“Because I _wanted to_.” Gen crosses his arms. “Because I've wanted to pretty much since I met you, and it finally seemed like you were starting to want me back. Was I wrong?”

 _No_ , Costis thinks. Out loud, he says, “But you’re dating Irene!”

“He asked me first,” Irene says quietly. “If that helps.”

“...what?”

Irene shrugs. “We were planning on waiting until break, but he said he couldn’t, so I told him it was okay to do it before I got home.”

“You were— _what_?” Costis is very, very confused, and gets even more so when Irene grabs his hand and pulls him closer.

“Shh,” she says. “Just. Just hold on for a second.” She just looks at him for a moment, before stretching upward and pressing a close-mouthed kiss to his lips.

“There,” she says, when she pulls away. “Get it now?”

“Oh,” Costis says, and yep, he sounds just as stunned as he feels. He feels like he’s been struck by lightning. “ _Oh_.”

“If I kiss you again, are you gonna freak out?” Gen says, wrapping a hand around Costis’s wrist.

In reply, Costis kisses _him_ , instead.

*

**EPILOGUE (aka COLLEGE STUFF aka THE TIME POOR DITE GOT TRAUMATIZED FOR LIFE)**

A few things about Dite: he’s in his first year at college, away from home for the first time, and he’s _totally_ going to major in Music despite what his dad says. On the day Dite enters into our story, it’s a Saturday morning near the middle of the spring semester and his douchebag roommate is still sleeping off last night’s tequila shots. It’s nearly noon when Dite rolls out of bed and heads to the bathroom. He’s just rounding the corner when he almost runs into someone coming the other direction.

And not just _any_ someone. The _super hot_ girl from his PoliSci class, who he’s been subtly trying to find out more about for _weeks_ without any luck. All he knows is that her name is Irene and she’s probably a sophomore? Who knows.

But now she’s _here_ , in Dite’s hall, wearing nothing but a t-shirt that’s at least three sizes too big and a pair of mismatched socks.

Dite makes an incredibly embarrassing strangled noise, which he somehow manages to salvage into a cough and a “good morning,” valiantly trying to keep his eyes on her face. 

“Good morning,” Irene says, and nods politely before brushing past him and rounding the corner, still as completely composed as she always is in class, despite her tangled hair and bare legs. Dite, because he is not a proud man, lurks around the corner to watch her go. Before she goes far, however, the door next to Dite’s room opens and Costis emerges, closing the door softly behind him. 

Dite doesn’t know Costis that well; he’s always been sort of overshadowed by his roommate Gen, who Dite personally finds fucking annoying. But Costis is kind of hard to ignore now, since he’s standing in the hallway very shirtless, with about a mile of tanned chest muscle and sporting several obvious hickeys. 

“There you are,” Costis is saying to Irene. “I was just going to get some water for coffee. Gen is still sleeping.”

Irene says something in a voice too low for Dite, and Costis laughs softly, his broad face lighting up. Just then, the door opens again, and Gen’s head pokes out. He’s wrapped in a sheet from the shoulders down, hair tousled. 

“Gen _was_ sleeping,” he says irritably. “Until I heard all the noise outside. Either get coffee or come back to bed.” 

Costis rolls his eyes, undaunted.

“Yes, your majesty,” he says, sharing a fond glance with Irene and pushing the door open wider to let her in. The three of them disappear inside, and Dite is left wondering if if would be too shameful to start day drinking.


End file.
